On Her Majesty's DEADly Service
by MarshalZhukov
Summary: Inspired by HotD: Semper Fidelis, while Komuro and friends gain the help of the USMC, another country's forces are trying to survive a catastrophe they neither trained for nor could prepare for. massive OCness. M for language and some gore.
1. ZDay 0800hrs

**Author's Note: I do not own High School of the Dead, any of the characters or other copyrighted material. As always, any similarities between my characters and any persons living, dead...or otherwise...is purely coincidental**

Her Royal Majesty's Legation, Tokyo Japan, Z-Day 0800hrs.

"Gentlemen, have a seat."

The man speaking wore the temperate DPM of Her Royal Majesty's armed forces. The green 'Commando' tab and corresponding up-thrust dagger on his shoulder marked him as one of HRM Royal Marines.

"As I hope you are aware," he continued, "we are seriously buggered."

"It can't be bad as all that, Staff Sergeant," a similarly garbed and tabbed man spoke up from the audience. "One or two tossers running about biting others can't be cause for lock-down."

The Staff Sergeant ceased pacing and stared for a moment at the Marine who had just spoken.

"I assume, Lance Corporal Johnson that you have not bothered to take a look about since you woke up?"

"Er, no Staff Sergeant." Johnson looked to the deck.

"Right, because if you had, you would have seen that the situation is worse than 'one or two tossers'…much, much worse."

"How much worse," another Marine spoke up.

"Gents, I am not going to lie to you," The SSgt replied at length. "We have about a snowball's chance in Hell unless we think fast, stay calm and act as a unit."

At this moment, the embassy's PA crackled to life.

"Leftenant Symons and SSgt Blake are to report to the Consul's main office. Consul's Main Office, Lt. Symons and SSgt Blake.

"Right, mates, behave yourselves." Blake said at the conclusion of the announcement. "Johnson, you should pop round to the front gates and see for yourself what the bloody fuck is going on."

Blake entered the Consul's office and snapped to attention.

"Staff Sergeant RJF Blake, HM Royal Marines, reporting as ordered, sah!"

His crisp salute was immediately returned by the two officers standing to the left of the Consul's desk.

Major, Sir Raymond C. Giles, MBE, DSM had served The Crown honorably and nobly for the better part of forty years. His long and distinguished service earned him accolades, a Knighthood and the title "Member of the Order of the British Empire". He served in the Falklands campaign, both Gulf Wars and recently in Afghanistan teaching newly minted Royal Marines and Commandos the ropes. As reward for his outstanding contributions to Queen and Country, he had been awarded the Legation in Tokyo as a final posting before retirement. Sir Raymond had hoped this final posting would be a calm and quiet one. When he woke that morning and looked out his window, he realized he was in a fight for his very life.

First Lieutenant James Symons was in every way the spitting image of Sir Raymond's early career. Young, highly intelligent and ambitious, the lieutenant had eagerly looked forward to this posting after serving as Sir Raymond's personal adjutant and XO in Afghanistan. It was by Sir Raymond's express wish that Lt. Symons was able to come to Tokyo and begin, in Symons's mind, a plum assignment. When the Major pointed out the situation earlier that morning, Symons' hopes for a plush job went out the window.

"Blake," the Major addressed the SSgt before him. "I want you and Leftenant Symons to work out three evac plans for the Legation staff. The HMS Ark Royal is on station two days steam out and is willing to take the embassy staff aboard, but they are a day and a half out of helo range."

Blake nodded in understanding, before asking, "We not staying here then, sir?"

"I doubt the compound could hold out six hours in a continuous onslaught," the Major replied. "We have supplies enough, but the fortifications are not sufficient to withstand a continued barrage from 'them'."

"May I inquire, 'Them', sir?"

"A petty contrivance to ease the mind of the civilian staff here," The Consul spoke. "The last thing we need is panic within the compound."

"Understood, sir."

"I need those evac plans in my hands within three hours, Staff Sergeant," the Major resumed. "You have my complete backing in anything you may require."

"Anything else, sir?"

"Make your men understand the gravity of the situation, Blake," the Major spoke gravely. "I want to make absolutely certain they labor under no illusions whatsoever. This is not Afghanistan, or Iraq and those are not humans out there. That is Hell on earth and 'they' will not hesitate, will not stop and will never surrender."

"If or when the compound is overrun, sir?"

"That is what you need to plan for, Staff Sergeant," Lt Symons spoke finally. "Your plans should include contingencies should we have to abandon the embassy. We must do everything we can to prevent an overrun, but we need to have a plan B, C and D"

"What other resources do we have in the area, if I may ask, sir?"

"The ballistic missile submarine HMS Inscrutable is lurking off the coast of North Korea, last I heard," the Major replied. "Beyond that, I could not say. We are in constant satellite communication with our American cousins on Okinawa, but they are obviously having their own difficulties. No, I am afraid we are pretty much on our own until the Ark Royal is within assistance range."

"Understood sir," Blake replied. "Will there be anything else, sir?"

"You have your orders, Blake."

Blake snapped to attention and saluted once more before being dismissed.

**A/N: I am trying to be as accurate as possible, but as an American civilian, I obviously have no access to the inner workings of British Royal Marines. Still, I hope this turns out for the best. M Zh**


	2. ZDay 0815hrs

HRM Legation, Tokyo Japan Z-Day 0815hrs

At the main guardhouse, two Marines had stationed themselves just out of reach on the wide, flat roof.

One equipped with a sound-suppressed L96 Lapua .338, a fully loaded L85A2 resting within easy reach to his right. The man to his left peered through his Winchester WT-645 Spotting Scope and whispered out dozens of contacts and their corresponding ranges. His L85A2 slung over his back and tucked safely between the pouches of his PLCE belt order.

"Christ, mate!" the spotter whispered to the shooter. "Three degrees right."

The shooter adjusted his sight picture to the spotter's coordinates.

"Poor bastard," he said at length. "Not even worth the bullet, now. Be dead in 30 secs."

"SSgt Blake told us not to shoot unless we're under threat of invasion," the spotter said. "Something about the RoE here in Japan."

"Fuck that, Jimmy, me old son," the shooter spat quietly. "We're under fucking attack, 'they' just don't know we're 'ere, yet."

"True enuff, Nicky," the spotter replied. "But still, we're not allowed to fire into Japanese territory unless the gates are rushed."

As if sensing the conversation above, a small cluster of "them' randomly pressed the embassy main gate. Not motivated to attack, they simply turned their attentions elsewhere, seemingly attracted by the screams of a woman a few meters away as she was felled and devoured by another small group of 'them'."

"See that, Jimmy lad?" the shooter whispered, pointing to the scene.

"What am I looking at?"

"That woman," Nick replied. "She starts screaming bloody murder, and the sods at the gate start moving in her direction."

"…and that means what, exactly?" Jim asked.

"Think, mate," Nick started. "They can still hear. I don't know if they can see, but 'they' can hear." He dug around his right thigh mag pouch and prized loose a 5.56mm round from a magazine. He tossed the round out onto the street into an area relatively free of "them". A clear and distinct metallic "bing" went up as the bullet hit the pavement. Within seconds, a small swarm gathered around the area where the bullet came to rest.

"What ya think of that, then, eh?" Nick asked.

"Nothing, mate," Jim replied skeptically. "Don't mean nothing."

"Then give it another go," Nick said, as he handed Jim another loose round.

Jim took the round, looked at it, then he gave it back to Nick. "Is it really a good idea to throw these away?" He asked. "That's one less pill to dish up if we have to fuck off in a hurry."

"But you see my point, yeah?"

"What point?"

"These sods are attracted to sound," Nick whispered harshly. "They hunt by sound. Lemme try something else." He reached into another pouch and produced his shemagh. Wrapping a corner around his wrist to prevent it getting loose, Nick waved the fabric square slowly and noiselessly into the air. Even those of "them" who appeared to be looking right at him seemed to look right through him and continued wandering aimlessly off into random directions.

"The fuck you do that for!" Jim hissed, barely maintaining noise discipline. "Now they fucking know we're up 'ere!"

"No, they don't," Nick pointed out. "Look, they didn't or couldn't see my rag. That's me 'ole point. I don't think 'they' can see."

Seconds passed as the team watched the spectacle below. Their cover effectively blown, they waited for the attack that never came.

Jim remained silent, allowing this new info to sink in. at present, he switched on comms and toggled the throat mike.

"Ops, this is Falcon 1-3, over."

"Ops, here, go ahead Falcon 1-3, over."

"I got some new intel you may be keen to hear…"

**A/N: I hope this worked out. It's hard to convey the nuances of cockney English with just the printed word. If you need audio reference, I would suggest any film directed by Guy Ritchie. As always, you reviews are welcome and appreciated. **


	3. ZDay 0820hrs

HRM Legation, Tokyo Japan Z-Day 0820hrs

"… Falcon 1-3, this is Ops, your message is heard and understood. Good work, lads. Ops out"

Lt. Symons switched off the comms and turned to Major Giles and SSgt Blake.

"Sergeants White and Pegg have just informed me that 'they' cannot see. They only hunt by sound."

"That is very useful to know. Thank you, Leftenant," Giles said.

This new intel would now feature prominently in Blake's evac plans. Noise discipline must now be strictly enforced, but it meant that movement on the ground was possible, if however difficult. The only serious drawback he had to cover was the civilian staff. His Marines would know everything they needed to know about stealth and noise reduction, but the civilian staff would not have such knowledge. Blake would have to give them a crash course on basic Marine maneuvering skills.

* * *

HRM Legation Z-Day 1030hrs

As ordered, SSgt Blake returned to the communications room and delivered his three evacuation plans to Maj. Giles and Lt. Symons. His primary plan involved the use of the embassy's vehicles; four Range Rovers, two High Mobility Multipurpose Wheeled Vehicle (HMMWV or Humvee) and the Consul's Bentley, all hardened to resist attack from conventional and unconventional sources. As Blake saw it, hordes of "them" more than counted as an unconventional attack. The helicopter on the roof was initially considered for recce duty, but ultimately discarded as it would need a place to land eventually and doing so would cause no end of ruckus and there were not enough seats to hold the needed number of Marines to guard it on the ground.

"Corporal Davis," Blake called out to the Marine manning the shortwave. "Where is the Ark Royal right now?"

"She is currently 100 nautical miles due west of Java, Staff Sergeant," Davis replied. "Still a day and a half from our current pos at full steam."

"Damn," Maj. Giles huffed. "Any word from the Inscrutable?"

"Sir, the Inscrutable is off the west coast of Japan. She is within helo range and we have enough fuel on hand to make the necessary trips to evac the civs," Davis reported. "Barely."

"That is certainly welcome news," Maj. Giles sighed relieved. "What of my Marine detachment?"

"Sir, we can evac the staff or us, not enough petrol for all everyone," Davis replied.

"Damn!" the Major exclaimed again. "Well, our duty is clear. Our primary goal is the safe and successful evacuation of the civilian staff. If the Inscrutable is willing to take them on, so much the better. A transfer to the Ark Royal in two days time can be arranged once everyone is safely out to sea."

Blake looked at the Major then at Davis. The Major spoke up.

"Davis, get a hold of the Inscrutable and tell them we need to evacuate the civilian population of the embassy. We will await the arrival of the Ark Royal when she decides to grace us with her presence."

"Aye, Sir," Davis said and returned his attention to the shortwave.

"Blake," the Major turned his attentions to the Staff Sergeant. "Inform your men that we are going to hold this compound for as long as it takes to get the civilian staff out of here. If we are overrun before that time, remember: if even one man escapes, it is a victory."

Blake stiffened into a salute.

"I found an escape tunnel some months ago, sir," Blake informed the Major. "By the looks of it, it is pre-World War Two, don't know where it goes, or even if it is operational, but it gives us a Plan E. Corporal McDonnough is an old hand with explosives and can have the necessary charges made ready should we need them."

"Brilliant thinking, old boy!" The Major clasped Blake on the shoulder. "If we get through this, I am putting you in for promotion to Sergeant Major."

"I thank you, sir," Blake said, blushing. "Your mentions in dispatches are more than satisfactory for me, sir."

Davis turned, cleared his throat and waited a respectful few seconds before speaking.

"Sir, the Inscrutable has surfaced and is standing by for evacuation."

"Right, then. Leftenant, get moving," the Major barked.

Lt. Symons snapped to attention and hustled off.

At that moment, the unit comms buzzed to life.

"Ops, this is Falcon 1-3. We are about to be buggered."

**A/N: I like the idea of a cliffhanger. I'll try and not use it too often. Kudos to you if you figured out the line "If even one man escapes, it is a victory." That line comes from a movie titled "Von Ryan's Express." I should also apologize for the short chapters thus far, I am still trying to establish the rhythm without overloading your eyeballs.**


	4. ZDay 1045hrs

HRM Legation, Tokyo Japan, Z-Day 1045hrs

"Say again, Falcon 1-3, Say again, over," Lt. Symons toggled the unit comms.

"Ops, Falcon 1-3, we have civilians at the gates and they are desperate to get in, over."

Symons looked to Major Giles.

"I am afraid that is the Consul's call. I have no authority to open the gates," he said sadly.

"Falcon 1-3, Ops, status report, over," Lt Symons returned to comms.

"Ops, Falcon 1-3, the civies are making a lot of racket, sir. Only a matter of time before…shit, too late. We got the attention of two, repeat two Zeds. What are our orders, sir? Over."

Maj. Giles sat for a moment and rubbed his temples.

"Leftenant, your shooters have my personal authority to open fire on the Zeds _if_ they approach the gates. They have my blessing to watch over those seeking shelter until the Consul gives the okay to let them in. I will assume any and all responsibility for our actions if the Japanese Home government raises any concerns."

"Understood, sir," Lt. Symons replied, smiling. "Falcon 1-3, Ops, you have permission to open fire on selected Zeds approaching the compound only. Repeat, permission to fire _only_ upon Zeds approaching compound gates, over."

"Ops, Falcon 1-3, orders received and understood. Beginning overwatch. Falcon 1-3 out."

* * *

Sergeant White flipped the safety select to fire and zeroed in on the closest Zed.

"Fire, Fire, Fire," Sgt Pegg whispered.

The massive L96 spat a hot .338 round square into the approaching Zed's chest, knocking it to the ground. Sgt White drew the bolt, chambered a second round, zeroed on the second target and repeated the effect.

"Targets are neutralized," Pegg grinned. "Nice shooting, Nicky, me old son."

As he said it, the first Zed staggered back to its feet and resumed shambling toward the embassy gate.

"Negative, target is not neutralized," White whispered, panic creeping into his voice. He re-sighted the first target, taking careful aim at the base of the head. At less than 100 meters, this was a cannot miss shot. Chambering a new round, Nick White squeezed the trigger and the Lapua spoke again. Zed's head disappeared into a fine mist of blood and gore as the body slumped to the ground. Re-chambering a fourth round, Sgt White targeted the second Zed and squeezed the trigger as the aperture came to rest square on the nose. A similar spray of blood and brains flew backward as the headless body came to rest 30 meters from the cowering civilians.

A sigh of relief went up from the small knot of civilians at the realization of how close death had come. A second cry went up as another Marine ran to the gates, what looked like a remote in his hands.

"Everyone, to the pedestrian gate," the Marine said in broken Japanese, gesturing to the small gate on the other side of the guard house. The knot of people pressed desperately into the gate, making it difficult to open. The suppressed thud of the heavy .338 was heard overhead as another Zed toppled over backward, this time danger close.

"I am switching over to the Enfield," Sgt White said, referring to his L85A2, laying the heavy sniper rifle to the side. "At these ranges, the Lapua is a waste."

"The report will attract more of them," Jim Pegg replied, worry in his voice. "Last thing we need is more of them than we got bullets."

"Aye, but I am having difficulty zeroing in at these ranges," Nick White replied. "My scope is set to ranges beyond 400 meters. It was not designed for danger close urban combat."

"Lance Corporal Edmonds is almost done with these civvies," Pegg said firmly. "Just a few more seconds and they are inside and safe."

"As safe as we can make 'em," White muttered, shouldering his assault rifle and setting the fire select to semi-auto. "but for how long?"

The admittance of about two dozen panicked civilians took more time than was comfortable for the shooter. By the time everyone was safely behind the locked gate, White had to dispatch three more Zeds attracted to the commotion and the report of his rifle; each with increasing difficulty. The last only went down right as the gate closed on its hand.

L/Cpl Edmonds led the newly rescued into the foyer where they were greeted by the Consul-General. There he conducted a quick head count and found assorted men and women, two with small children and three teens totaling twenty two persons.

"Minna-san," the Consul spoke, gaining everyone's attention. "I welcome you to Her Royal Majesty's Embassy. Please follow the directions of the Embassy staff as they take you to our guest accommodations. We have food, shelter, bathing and hygiene facilities and changes of clothing for everyone."

He turned to an aid and gave her the necessary instructions. She and another Marine led them to the conference room where the quarantine procedures would take place.

Upon returning to his office, the Consul found Major Giles, Lt Symons and SSgt Blake waiting for him.

"This presents us with a dilemma, gentlemen," the Consul spoke. "Our helicopter evacuation could barely accommodate the civilian staff as it stood. Now we have a further twenty two to worry about."

"We can evac them with the ground convoy, sir," Blake suggested.

"I would hate to put your men in jeopardy, Staff Sergeant," The consul sighed. "I don't regret saving them, but I guess I failed to take into account their fates once here. Options, gentlemen?"

"Sir, this compound was designed to withstand a full military siege for weeks," Maj. Giles said at length. "I suggest we can hold out for the few days it will take the HMS Ark Royal to arrive."

At this moment, Cpl Davis rushed into the room.

"We-I-I lost Whitehall…" He heaved breathlessly. "There has been no contact with London since 1030hrs."

"Calm down, Davis," the Major smiled warmly. "I am sure they have other things to worry about than this one outpost."

"No, sir, that is not what I mean," Davis continued. "I was speaking to the Foreign Office directly, when I heard screams and then nothing."

The other four men only sat in stunned silence as the gravity of this news sank in.

"Then…then it's happening in England…everywhere," Symons slumped into his chair. "My God, we are surrounded out here."

No one spoke for minutes. Each man lost in his thoughts of home, loved ones never to be seen alive, surrounded on all sides by a hostile force that meant to inflict utter annihilation on the living population. Symons was heard softly sobbing into his hands.

"Cpl Davis," Maj. Giles spoke gravely. "Do what you can with communications. There has to be someone in London who knows what is going on. Any news from the HMS Inscrutable?"

"Sir, the Inscrutable is still standing by to take on the staff," Davis replied weakly.

Major Giles perked up at the news.

"That is good news, is it not?"

"Y-Yes sir," Davis replied, still unsure of where the Major was going.

"Well then, there is still hope. The Ark Royal is still on her way here, is she not?"

"Yes, sir," Davis replied, the confidence returning to his voice.

"Then all is not lost," Giles spoke triumphantly, rising to his feet. "Return to your post. Get ahold of anyone who is still listening, military and civilian alike. I want to know precisely what the bloody hell is going on out there!"

"Yes, Sah!" Davis snapped to attention, saluting crisply. He turned sharply and strutted out the door, his confidence fully restored.

"Staff Sergeant," The Major turned to Blake. "Gather your men and inform them of what we know so far. The Ark Royal is still on her way here with all possible haste and the Inscrutable is on station for the civilian evacuation. We have a few more to handle, but, by God, we are Royal Marines! The word 'cannot' does not exist in our vocabulary."

"Aye, Sah!" Blake saluted. He turned crisply and strode out of the room.

"Now, Lt Symons, a word, if you please."


	5. ZDay 1945hrs

HRM Legation, Tokyo Japan, Z-Day 1945hrs

The sun sank slowly into the mountains surrounding the city of Tokyo, its brilliant rays of red, orange and violet burning up the evening sky with grandeur worthy of the Dutch Masters. Since that morning, no further survivors made it to the compound gate. One poor soul who had been bitten shortly before arriving had to be turned away, wailing and bemoaning his fate only to collapse in a puddle of his own blood as he expired a few meters away. Within minutes, his newly risen corpse joined with the growing hordes mindlessly shambling through the streets, seemingly unaware of the intrepid band of survivors just the other side of tempered steel bars and reinforced concrete.

As expected, the helicopter airlift of embassy staff and Japanese civilians attracted an uncomfortable amount of attention, but the gates held, thankfully. Blake had ordered his men to shore up the weak points with anything they could spare and the juncture where the two slid together was held tight with a curious combination of rope, chains and duct tape. Only a sustained and repeated barrage would get them to open now…of course this meant that escape was that much more difficult. Blake surmised that one of the heavier ground vehicles, the HMMWV perhaps, could batter the gates open if need be. Corporal McDonnough, the resident explosives genius, volunteered to place charges at all stress points to ensure an easier egress should the situation warrant. Grinning like a mad man, he produced the remote detonator switch and presented it to Blake. The pedestrian side gate was secured with nothing more high tech than a steel rod jammed at an angle between a 10cm deep socket in the ground and a corresponding socket beside the handle.

An hour before sunset, the last of the civilians were airlifted out of the embassy, the Consul-General among them. He had initially refused to go, preferring to remain behind until everyone, including the Marines, were all to safety. Major Giles convinced him to evacuate, at long last…as a representative of Her Majesty's Government and the highest ranking civilian authority known to survive, it would be the Consul's duty to lead the survivors into this brave new world. At last contact, the helo ran out of fuel within three kilometers of the Inscrutable's position, ditched into the sea and rescue divers sent out to retrieve the passengers. The skipper relayed that all were safe, a few minor scrapes and broken bones, but no casualties. The Inscrutable was going to remain on station prowling Japanese waters until the Ark Royal arrived and the transfer of survivors completed.

A collective sigh of relief went up among the Royal Marines remaining behind as they went about further securing the perimeter. Sergeants White and Pegg were relieved by a second shooter/spotter team and went in for chow. Cpl Davis remained at his post in frantic contact with Japanese Self Defense Forces, law enforcement, emergency services, the HMS Ark Royal and the US Marine forces stationed throughout the Japanese islands. Once in a while, civilian HAM operators would contact him, but they too fell to the clutches of "them" one by one, until all fell silent. Soon, the only chatter heard was the sporadic and frantic radio calls from isolated police patrol cars, one ambulance and the encrypted chatter from the Allied military forces, everyone else either became food, became one of "them" or simply disappeared into the night. Eventually, even emergency services stopped broadcasting. By dusk, the only sound left over civilian bandwidth was static, pre-programmed musical fare or the J-Alert signal informing anyone left alive where the rally and evac points were established.

Once the compound was deemed safe to the Major's satisfaction, he ordered the Union Jack drawn down and properly stowed for the night. He asked Lt. Symons to make up a large banner to be hung over the main vehicle gate the next morning. On the banner, in crude Japanese, since all the translators except Cpl Davis, who could not be spared, left during the airlift, was printed:

"Safety, Food and Shelter! No Infection! English military forces inside! Will evacuate survivors!"

The relief shooter and spotter were called in as the last rays of sunlight faded into the west and rendered shooting impractical. All the Marines were present and accounted for as all entrances…including the abandoned WWII escape tunnel were secured and barred from the inside. The blast shutters were lowered over the entire first floor and the remaining humans hunkered in for the first night of the apocalypse.


	6. ZDay1 0515hrs

HRM Legation, Tokyo Japan, Z-Day+1 0515hrs

"Ops, Falcon 1-3, over," Sgt Pegg toggled the throat mike.

"Falcon 1-3, Ops, go ahead, over."

"Ops, I just saw a meatball Phantom II overfly our pos, over."

"Falcon 1-3, heard and understood. Sit Rep, over."

"Ops, Falcon 1-3 reports streets are relatively clear, small pockets of Zed here and there, no major presence, how read, over."

"Falcon 1-3, Ops, heard and understood. Keep your eyes peeled and keep up the good word, lads. Ops out."

Sgt Pegg switched off the throat mike. He gently tapped Sgt White on the shoulder. The shooter responded with a mild grunt, not taking his eye from the scope.

"Yeah?"

"What d'ya make of that flyover, Nicky boy?"

"It means that some form of government is still in operation," White replied. "We are still in business."

"Yep," Pegg sighed. "Still, I wish they would lift the RoE, or at least make it easier to engage hostiles."

"mmm," White said. "Took quite the risk tapping the ones we did yesterday, the swine."

"The Major said 'e'd take the heat on that, tho."

"I guess, still quite the risk."

Silence passed between the team-mates. They had been together ever since Lympstone and considered themselves best mates. They both qualified for sniper school at the same time and took turns on the rifle. The unspoken agreement, however, was that when shit got thick, Sgt White, being the better shooter, took the trigger while Sgt Pegg kept an eye out.

"Dog's Bollocks!" Pegg nearly broke noise discipline.

"What?"

"I got a survivor, ten degrees left."

White swung the L96 to follow Pegg's coordinates. Sure enough, a young man, about mid twenties, came running up the street. The manner in which he easily evaded capture by "them" suggested he had martial art or combat training. He was wearing what looked like woodland fatigues and had something slung over his shoulder. As he approached, the object resolved itself into Howa Type 89 assault rifle.

Pegg whistled low to the Marine on guard by the pedestrian gate. The Marine waved his hand in recognition and prepared to quickly open the gate.

The young man approached the embassy, saw the shooter and spotter on the roof of the guard house waving to him and quickly came to a stop. Briefly glancing at the banner hung on the vehicle gate, then noticing Pegg gesturing to the pedestrian gate, the young man hustled into the waiting arms of the Marine on station. Once inside, the gate quickly and silently clicked shut and the security bar re-emplaced.

"D'you speak English, mate?" The Marine asked.

"Yes, I do," the young man replied with a low bow. "I am Senior Sergeant Shinji Aono of the Japan Ground Self Defense Forces. I was separated from my unit and found myself here. I gratefully accept your hospitality."

Aono bowed at the waist again.

"Welcome, mate, to this litto slice of Heaven on Earf," the Marine replied, returning the bow. "I am Lance Corporal Shaun Edmonds of HM Royal Marines, Embassy detachment, Tokyo."

"Is there someone I should report to?" Senior Sergeant Aono asked.

"I'll take you to the Major, but first, I have to ask, 'ave you been bitten or in any ovvah way infected?"

"No, I have not," Aono replied, handing his rifle over. "Please allow me to demonstrate."

Aono proceeded to strip to the waist, while L/Cpl Edmonds watched. He then let his trousers fall to his boots. Satisfied that this man was clear of infection, Edmonds told Aono to re-dress, returned his weapon and then took him to see the Major.

* * *

Senior Sergeant Shinji Aono stood at full attention as Major Giles and Lt. Symons entered a small office some twenty minutes later. Aono understood the reason for the delay; to allow any infection to manifest in a secure space where it could easily be dealt with. Apparently satisfied that Aono was healthy, his hosts entered the room.

"You may stand at ease, Senior Sergeant," the Major smiled. "I had hoped for more survivors of this bloody mess, and seeing you gives me hope."

"Sir, as of this morning, organized units of all JSDF are conducting photo reconnaissance and neighborhood sweeps to find and rescue any survivors," Aono said. "Sadly, I was separated from my detachment some twenty minutes ago. It was only by sheer luck that I stumbled upon your embassy."

"Then you saw the banner?" Symons spoke.

"I did, and I congratulate whoever made it."

Symons smiled and puffed up slightly. His Japanese was rusty, but still functional.

"I was spotted by a shooter/spotter team on your guardhouse roof," Aono continued. "They are to be commended for their sharp eyes.

"They are the best we have," Maj. Giles said. "I will be sure to pass on your compliment."

"Sir, if I may ask," Aono looked directly at the major. "Have you been able to rescue any of my countrymen?"

"We rescued twenty-two yesterday," the Major replied. "They have been airlifted to safety to one of our ballistic missile submarines and are currently awaiting transfer to the HMS Ark Royal upon her arrival tomorrow."

Aono looked visibly relieved as he heard the news.

"That is good to hear. Have there been any more this morning?"

"Other than yourself, I am afraid not," the Major said sadly. "It would seem that those left alive are either in hiding or are already evacuated."

At this moment, Lt. Symons broke the silence.

"Falcon 1-3, Ops, go ahead, over."

Silence.

"Falcon 1-3, Ops, heard and understood. Bring them into the yard and quarantine them, out"

"Sir, Senior Sergeant, we have ten more civilian survivors in the main yard."

Major Giles sighed in relief as Senior Sergeant Aono visibly held back tears.

"Gentlemen, shall we greet our guests?" the Major said at length.

"Sir, with respect," Aono began. "I need to regain contact with my unit. Is there some way I may do so?"

"Of course, dear boy," the Major said. "Leftenant, take Senior Sergeant Aono to the radio room and introduce him to Corporal Davis."

"Sir," Lt Symons saluted and escorted Aono to the communications room.

**A/N: some terms you may be unfamiliar with  
1) "Meatball " Phantom II refers to an F-4 Phantom 2 in service to the Japan Air Self Defense Forces. The meatball is slang for the red dot on the wings and fuselage as it looks like a meatball. The term originated during WWII to identify Japanese aircraft  
2) Sit Rep, short for situation report  
3) Lympstone in Devon, England is the basic training center for all Royal Marines**


	7. ZDay1 1330hrs

HRM Legation, Tokyo Japan, Z-Day+1 1330hrs

Senior Sergeant Shinji Aono waited in the main yard, flanked on either side by Major Giles and Lt. Symons. Contact had been reestablished with Aono's unit and they were en route to retrieve him as well as the ten survivors who arrived shortly after Aono. The knot of people clustered around the colours fluttering proudly in the faint breeze, awaiting transport to safety.

"Again, Major Giles, Lt. Symons," Aono turned to each man in turn and bowed respectfully. "You have my heartfelt appreciation and gratitude for rescuing me earlier. I do not know of any way to fully repay this debt."

Major Giles politely waved away Aono's display.

"Think nothing of it, my boy. It is the duty of Her Majesty's Royal Marines to help anyone in distress."

Within minutes, a small convoy of up-armored HMMWVs escorted by a JGSDF Type 96 APC rolled to a stop by the pedestrian gate. A formation of troops plugged the gap between the waiting Humvees and the gate to prevent infiltration by "them". Senior Sergeant Aono bowed to his rescuers once more and left with the civilians and reported back for duty. After an interval of twenty minutes, the Marines were left by themselves once more.

"Nothing to do now, Leftenant, but prepare for our own departure," Maj. Giles said to Lt. Symons as he watched the last of the convoy disappear into the afternoon haze. "Make sure everyone has their kit together, prepare to disable the radios and pack up the code books. I am ordering demobilization, the men not assigned to duty stations may have the rest of the day off."

"Sir, do…can we…do that?" Lt Symons asked.

"With the Consul-General no longer in residence and no civilian authority to countermand that order, I am now the highest ranking authority here."

"Y-Yes, sir," Symons stuttered. "will…will there be anything else, sir?"

"You have your orders, Leftenant."

"Sir." Lt Symons snapped to attention and saluted. The Major dismissed him and sent him to his tasks.

'What do we do now?' the Major thought to himself. 'Where shall we go?'

**A/N: APC armored personnel carrier**


	8. Zday2 0530hrs

HRM Legation, Tokyo Japan, Z-Day+2, 0530hrs

Reverie sounded in the yard as the Royal Marines stirred from their racks. Staff Sergeant Blake paraded through the barracks hall calling first light.

The Marines rolled out and snapped to attention.

"Good morning, lads, hope you all slept well."

A general consensus of agreement went around the assembled troop.

"Good, I hope you got a good night's sleep because today we begin de-commissioning this embassy."

"What does that mean for us, Staff Sergeant?" one of the Marines asked.

"It means you are going to earn your chow today, lads. Assembly in the dinning commons in one half hour. Snap to it!"

"Yes, Staff Sergeant!" the Marines called out in unison.

* * *

Dining Commons, 0600hrs

Major Giles stood at the head of the DC and surveyed his men as they filed into the room. He waited patiently as they all found a seat and sat down. He cleared his throat and addressed the assembly.

"Gentlemen, our American cousins have graciously extended their invitation for us to join them on Okinawa with any and all survivors we may rescue."

At this moment, Lt. Symons appeared by the major's side. He whispered briefly into Giles's ear, handed him a slip of paper and then hustled off. Giles took a moment to read what was given him then returned his attention to the assembled Marines.

"Lads, I have some good news," he said. "The Ark Royal made good time last night and will be on station at our current position before nightfall."

Cheers from the group.

"And further good news," he continued after the cheering subsided. "She carries a full complement of Sea Harriers with stores a-plenty, along with four Merlins to aid in airlift and supply duties."

More cheering before the Major had to regain their attention.

"Now, lads, we are set to begin decommissioning this facility and I intend to have it done before the first Merlin arrives. Don't forget, all the commotion will surely attract Zed and need you to stay alert."

"What are our orders, sir," Blake spoke up.

"PLCE belt order, one day's rations. Those men on guard detail are to be fully armed and ready. I want Sergeants White and Pegg on the guardhouse roof as our advance warning."

White and Pegg grinned at each other.

"Wot about the RoE?" L/Cpl Edmonds spoke up.

Major Giles inhaled deeply before speaking.

"As of right now, the RoE is bollocks. I am personally clearing each man with a weapon to open fire on any Zed that comes within rifle range...inside or outside the gates"

Another cheer went up in the crowd. This is what the men signed up and trained for. A Marine who does not shoot cannot be considered a real Marine. Each man felt his skills with his rifle deteriorating with each passing day. Japan was simply too calm for their likes.

"Gentlemen, please," Giles raised his voice above the din. Order restored once again, he resumed his speech.

"I want weapon discipline strictly enforced. Semi-auto fire only. Sergeant White informed me yesterday after assisting with our first rescue that Zed can only be 'killed' by a shot to the head. Remember that and you will live. Only a shot to the head."

Giles looked over his command. Each one a trained killer, able to dispatch an enemy with extreme prejudice and still sleep untroubled at night. Still, he wondered if they could withstand the psychological effects of dispatching a walking corpse who, until very recently, had been a carefree civilian with nothing to worry about except keeping a roof overhead and food on the table. This will be their breaking point, the Major thought, if we do not get through this, all is truly lost for these men.


	9. Zday2 1825hrs

HRM Legation, Tokyo Japan, Z-Day+2 1825hrs

Corporal Davis burst into the third floor office Major Giles had occupied since the outbreak began.

"Sir, Sir, we are VSF, Sir!"

"Calm down, Davis," the Major said evenly. "What has you in such a state?"

"Sir…the...pant, pant... the Inscrutable…huff...just confirmed…launch of…"

"Launch of what?" the Major replied, unsure of where this conversation was going.

"The USS Norfolk," Davis succeeded in huffing out. "She just launched a full spread of nukes, sir."

Giles dropped his tea cup to the floor as his mouth fell open. Minutes passed as the two men stared at each other in stunned silence, neither daring to believe the news.

"Do they…" Unsure of how to proceed, the Major simply pressed forward. "Any idea where they are headed? The nukes, I mean."

"Yes, sir," Davis replied numbly. "Telemetry tracks three to Russia's Far East, three to China and one to North Korea. Confirmed by the Ark Royal, sir."

"Then we get to sit and watch the world burn." The Major slumped into his chair. This was the doomsday scenario everyone feared would happen and that everyone prayed never would.

"How soon can we expect retaliation?"

"Sir, Moscow fell silent on Z-Day+1, their nukes are cold. China spun four as soon as the pre-emptive was launched. Their birds are in the air as we speak."

"Then powers beyond our control hold all our fates in their hands," the Major whispered.

The handset on Davis' shoulder screeched to life with incoming chatter. Davis toggled the mike and listened with rapt attention.

"Sir, news. Three JMSDF escort cruisers and an American missile frigate intercepted three of the warheads mid-flight. The USS Curtis Wilbur is silent and failed to launch an intercept."

The handset squawked further.

"Understood," Davis replied as his heart sank into his stomach.

Well?" Giles demanded.

"We're the target, sir," Davis sobbed. "That last nuke is headed straight for Tokyo. We have maybe twenty minutes before detonation."

Giles grabbed the telephone receiver from the phone on his desk and dialed up the internal PA.

"Now hear this! Now hear this! Secure the compound. Nuclear missile inbound, I repeat, nuclear missile inbound. Secure the compound!"

A panicked commotion went up among the Marines as they scrambled to secure everything. The Embassy was designed to withstand a siege and military attack with chemical and biological agents. Would it survive a nuclear attack?

White and Pegg scrambled off the guardhouse roof quick as their legs could carry them. Their training kicking in, absconding with their equipment. Lance Corporal Edmonds ran close on their heels, the dazed young woman recently admitted in tow. Only once inside did the Marines realize that she had not been properly quarantined, but by then it was too late. The bite mark on her arm noticed only after she began to turn. Corporal McDonnough seized a massive, down-curved, heavy-bellied knife from a holster on his belt and swung it with full force into her skull; cracking bone and spilling blood into the foyer as the poor unfortunate fell to the floor, unmoving. With a sadistic grin on his face, the mad explosives expert extricated the knife and brought it down several more times until he was seized by Staff Sergeant Blake and two other Marines. McDonnough continued swinging his knife until his arms could be restrained. The pool of blood, brain and bits of bone that had been the woman's head slicked the marble floor.

"Restrain that man!" Blake barked at McDonnough's captors. "The rest of you, back to work! We haven't the time to fuck around!"

"Oh, bugger me sideways!" L/Corporal Edmonds cried out. "I left the side gate open! Oh fuck me!"

By the time anyone reached the lobby doors, a sizeable group of "them" had breached the yard through the open gate and were moving toward the main embassy building. Several more, attracted by the commotion, approached the gate at close distance.

"Bar the bloody doors, you bastards!" Blake bellowed "And close the blast shutters! Right fucking now!"

Boots pounded the marble flooring as the lobby doors were slammed shut. Someone produced several zip ties and these were employed around the pull handles to keep the doors from being pushed open. One of "them" had crawled up the stairs and by the time the doors were secured, had stood up and began pounding on the plexi-glass inserts. Blake moved around the receptionist's station and slammed his fist onto the emergency blast shutter override switch. The shutter fell with a terrific whoosh, severing Zed's hands and locking the Marines into the building. Within seconds, the entire building was secure behind the shutters.

Pausing to catch their collective breath, the Marines took stock of what they had. Secure inside, but now surrounded and with no other choice but to await airlift…if the Ark Royal survived the blast.

At this moment, Blake's handset came to life.

"Staff Sergeant Blake, this is Corporal McDonnough. We have…a problem."


	10. ZDay2 1845hrs

HRM legation, Tokyo Japan, 1845hrs.

Inside the embassy, the Marines hunkered down as the earth-shaking explosion that heralded the arrival of nuclear war shook the very foundations. Within seconds, the attendant EMP knocked out all lights and communications within the city, the embassy included. Trapped in pitch black, Blake called out to his troop.

"Drop where you are. That loony McDonnough clipped one of us when he finished off the girl Zed and now there is at least one of 'them' inside. Remember, they hunt by sound. Absolutely no noise and no movement until the emergency generator kicks over in two minutes."

At that moment a flash of flickering light pierced the gloom and made its way steadily down the main stair and into the foyer. Someone had a cigarette lighter and was making their way towards the main contingent.

"Oi," the soft whisper of Lt Symons called out. "Where is everyone? Sound off."

'Shut the fuck up, you bloody fool,' Blake thought to himself as he hid behind the receptionist's station. Did the Leftenant understand nothing of what happened over the last two days?

Too late, Symons felt cold hands grab at his tunic.

"What the bloody hell! Let go of me this-" he was cut off as he felt teeth sink into his chest through the fabric of his combat smock. A gut wrenching scream went out followed shortly by a blast of fully automatic gunfire. The Marines in the foyer hit the deck as the muzzle flashes punctuated the darkness. Moans were heard interspersed with cries of pain and the sloshy sounds of innards being pulled out of body cavities. Symons let out one last gurgling sound and then fell silent. His rifle clattered to the marble floor. The sounds of feasting continued and each man was left to imagine any number of horrible sights to accompany that sound.

Shortly after Lt. Symons met his gruesome fate, the emergency generator whirred to life. Floodlights lit the gloom and everyone poked his head from his hiding place. Blake, to his horror, found himself without his rifle and within two meters of Symons' resting place; two of his men gorging themselves on his corpse. As quietly as he could, he signaled Edmonds and one other man to take aim at each target and fire simultaneously. Edmonds pointed to one of the selected targets then pointed at his own head. Confused for a second, Blake's heart sank into his stomach as he came to realize that one of "them" had a combat helmet on.

'Of course,' Blake thought. 'SOP is brain buckets on during air attack. This bastard actually thought to put his on.'

The silence and tension pervading the room was broken by the subdued hiss of a large caliber bolt sliding home, chambering a round as it went. A single red dot appeared just below the rim of the helmet Zed wore as it looked up from its feast to investigate the noise. Sgt White had rigged a laser designator in place of the scope for close quarters shooting. Blake smiled at him and nodded to White and Edmonds to each take their shot. Edmonds beat White to the trigger by a split second and the muffled sound of White's .338cal was drowned out by the sharp crack of Edmonds' 5.56mm. Both Zeds hit the floor, one missing its head, the other with a clean shot right between the eyes.

Blake rallied all the survivors, made a head count and came up short. Factoring in the two now former Royal Marines and what was left of Lt. Symons, the Marines were still short three men.

"Where are Major Giles and Corporals McDonnough and Davis?" Blake whispered.

"Last I 'eard, Staff Sergeant," L/Corporal Edmonds whispered in reply, "Davis was down in Communications. McDonnough would have been taken to barracks and I don't know 'bout the Major."

Blake pinched the bridge of his nose in thought before speaking in a more normal, indoor voice.

"Until they are accounted for, these three men must now be considered either food or one of 'them'."

Blake gazed upon the remnants of his command. He had now just thirteen men remaining from a contingent of twenty.

"I want five men on me, split into two man teams to fan out and conduct a search. The other seven are to remain on station here as this is now our rally point. We are now engaged in a hard target search. If you encounter anyone in this building who has become one of 'them', remember; that man is now a walking corpse and should be dealt with extreme prejudice."

Static, crackled over Blake's handset. 'The bloody thing still works?'

Corporal Davis' voice could be heard weakly through the static jamming the signal.

"Staff Sergeant Blake? Hulloo? Are you thea?"

Blake toggled the squawk.

"Corporal Davis, report your position, over."

More static.

"Staff Sergeant Blake? Are you thea? Over"

"Damn, he can't receive me," Blake spat. "Still, that means at least one man is alive. Edmonds, you are on me to Communications. The other two teams, Pvts Smith and Jones to the second floor with Brown and Sharpe to the third. Weapon discipline is enforced. I want _only _semi-auto fire, is that understood?"

The Marines all saluted silently. Blake nodded in approval.

"Move out, lads."

Blake and Edmonds crept silently down the stairs into the sub floor where Communications were kept. The back-up flood lights casting an eerie light into the hallway, every shadow a potential hiding place for one of "them." Blake took point with Edmonds watching six*. Since the MoD emplaced SUSAT scopes on every assault rifle in service, Blake and Edmonds were glad they did not have burned out ACOG or red-dot scopes to deal with. The SUSAT made aiming ridiculously simple; put the obelisk on your target and pull the trigger.

Setting foot on the floor at the base of the stairs, Blake brought his rifle to the ready, his trigger finger resting on the frame of his rifle just above and outside the trigger guard. Slipping slightly on a puddle of blood, Blake reached out and steadied himself against the wall. He felt Edmonds lightly tap his flanks to signal he had reached the bottom as well. Three doors with weak light spilling from within lined the left of the hall, the right side blessedly free of doors and thus of any potential surprises. At the end of the hall, the lift doors were closed and the mechanism silent. Blake tapped Edmonds' flank, gained his attention and silently signaled that they were going to sweep each room in sequence. Edmonds came up with a different plan. Having been privy to the conversations between Sgts White and Pegg, Edmonds suggested simply knocking lightly on each door. A shuffle and moan meant "do not open". If Corporal Davis answered, the room was safe to enter.

Liking this idea better, Blake proceeded to knock lightly on the first door, the armory as it turned out. No response, good or foul. Wait three seconds for any action in the hall. Nothing. The barracks door stood open. Blake cautiously crouched and poked his head inside. Sweeping the room, Blake noticed a few drops of blood forming a trail into the hall, but otherwise all clear. Gaining Edmonds' attention, Blake lead the two men to the third and final door. The two men now stood in front of the Communications room. Movement was heard inside. Blake cautiously knocked on the door. A slow shuffle towards them and then…

Click.

The Communications room door opened to reveal a slightly confused, but otherwise unhurt Corporal Davis. Visibly relieved, Blake and Edmonds hurriedly shoved Davis back into the room and silently shut the door behind them.

Davis was about to say something when Blake motioned to be quiet.

"One of 'them' got into the building shortly before the blast. At least two of the men were infected. Lt Symons is dead and Major Giles and Corporal McDonnough are unaccounted for."

"Actually, Staff Sergeant, McDonnough is over in the corner," Davis said, pointing to a figure slumped over a desk.

Blake's eyes went wide as he raised his weapon at the figure.

"No, Staff Sergeant, he's dead," Davis explained. "He came to me just before the lights went out, said he'd been bitten, gave me his knife and begged me to end it."

"Take a look, Edmonds," Blake said. Edmonds cautiously approached the body. It was McDonnough, alright, his vicious kukri buried in his forehead. Blake relaxed his weapon as Edmonds returned.

"That still leaves the Major," Blake sighed, his command shrinking by the moment. At this rate only the three men in this room would be around for evac.

"Is he not with you, Staff Sergeant?" Davis asked.

Blake looked at Davis, a confused look on his face.

"No he is not."

"Oh, well, then, I guess he's back on the third floor in his office," Davis said.

"What are you talking about, Corporal?" Blake asked.

"Well, Major Giles was down here with me talking to The Ark when Corporal McDonnough was brought down," Davis explained. "I heard a scuffle, assumed it was McDonnough having a tussle with the other two with him. The Major went out to have a word. I poked my head out and saw the Major walking out of barracks."

"Did the Major take the lift?" Blake asked.

"Yes, Staff Sergeant." Davis replied. "Curious thing, tho. Had this sad smile on his face, like he was sayin' goodbye, or something."

"Did the Major say anything to you?" Blake pressed. "Anything look amiss?"

"Yes, Staff Sergeant. He told me to stay put and keep the door locked," Davis said. "I assumed McDonnough here was taken into barracks and kept under guard. The Major just got into the lift and that was the end of it until Mac pops 'round and...well...you know the rest."

"The Major took the lift. That would explain why he did not pass us in the the lobby," Blake surmised.

"ere, d'you fink the Major's infected then?" Edmonds spoke up.

"I would not rule it impossible," Blake said, then his face dropped. "Bloody hell, Brown and Sharpe..."

Edmonds and Davis looked at Blake.

"Staff Sergeant...?" Edmonds said.

"Brown and Sharpe are on the third floor with Maj. Giles," Blake said. "If the Major is one of 'them', there is a good chance those two ran afoul of him."

Blake sat on a stool near McDonnough's corpse. He sank his head into his hands.

"Those two were just kids, fresh from Lympstone...I should not have sent them up there by themselves."

No one spoke for several minutes, until...

"Staff Sergeant, I have been in constant contact with the Ark Royal," Davis broke the silence, a hopeful smile on his face.

"What?" Blake asked incredulously, shaking the guilt from his brain. "I would have thought the EMP knocked everything out."

"Normally yes, but in this case," Davis gestured around the room, "when the MoD and the Foreign Office designed this room, they wanted to ensure that communications were secure and that listening devices could not broadcast sound from within this room. So a copper cage was build into the walls, floor, ceilings…even the door and its frame. Staff Sergeant, we are sitting in a big Faraday Cage. The EMP dissipated into the copper. I only realized the EMP hit when the main lights went off."

"Thank God for small miracles," Blake sighed in relief. "Any news on evac?"

"The Ark Royal rode it out fine. They said they will have to wait until first light, tho," Davis explained. "With no lights or IR beacons to guide the helos in, they would be trying to land blind."

"This is getting more and more fucked by the minute," Blake muttered. "Do we have any replacement radios?"

"Plenty, Staff Sergeant," Davis smiled, pointing to the massive charge and docking station on the far wall, near McDonnough's body. Blake walked over, muttered a silent prayer for his late mad bomber and then helped himself to enough radios for the remaining Marines to operate in tandem.

"Edmonds, you remain here with Davis," Blake said, handing Edmonds a working radio. "Davis, keep talking to the Ark Royal. I am going back to the rest of the squad."

"Are you shoa…by yosewf?" Edmonds stammered.

"Corporal Davis is now the most important man in this building," Blake said. "Your job, Edmonds, is to keep him safe and alive. If we lose contact with our evac team, we may as well turn up our toes and die. Understood?"

"Understood," Edmonds replied.

Blake cautiously opened the door and peeked out into the ill lit hall. Nothing could be heard, but that meant nothing. He pulled out his MoD issue Fairbairn-Sykes knife and rapped the blade against the wall near the door jamb. Still nothing. Blake stepped into the gloom, his knife at the ready and silently crept toward the stairs. As he rounded the landing, Blake saw a figure slowly approach in the gloom. Crouching, Blake made ready and let out a low whistle.

The figure let out a slow moan and tuned to face the direction of the sound. In the semi-darkness, Blake could make out what was left of the man's face as it began to stumble down the stairs towards him. Leaping out of the way, Blake buried his fighting knife into Zed's brains and scrambled them with all his might. The struggle stopped and Zed came to rest.

'Now I have only twelve men, possibly less', Blake cursed under his breath. 'I am so sorry, Smith.'

Reaching the top of the stairs without further incident, Blake entered the foyer. He scanned the gloom, but could not find the rest of his men. The bodies of Lt Symons, the two Marines and the woman who started it all were right as he left them. Venturing further into the main lobby, he tripped and stumbled over an unaccounted for body. This man and the man in the stairwell were the team he sent to the second floor.

'Eleven,' Blake counted downward and included himself. 'Where is the rest of my command?'

At this moment, White and Pegg materialized out of the shadows. Pegg offered his hand while White went on over watch.

"Smith and Jones," Pegg said regretfully. "I think the Major is infected now, too."

"I am inclined to agree," Blake said, getting to his feet. "No word from Brown and Sharpe on the third floor?"

"Not since you went to find Davis with Edmonds," Pegg said, a questioning look on his face.

"They're both safe in Comms," Blake replied. "McDonnough is dead, infected. Davis killed him. Edmonds is guarding him now."

"We're going to die in here, aren't we, Staff Sergeant?" White spoke up.

"Not yet," the waver in Blake's voice belied his feelings. "Where are the rest of the men?"

"We're holed up in civilian quarters," Pegg said, pointing down the opposite hall from where Blake had come. "The seven of us drew lots to keep watch over the entry, hoping someone not infected would show up, and here you are."

The three men returned to the civilian wing unmolested. The five men in the first dorm turned to face the door with weapons ready as the signal knock was heard. The door was opened, revealing White, Pegg and Blake. A collective sigh was heard, as the door was shut and bolted.

"Still no word from Brown and Sharpe," Blake reported. "Davis is safe and alive with Edmonds. They are holed up in comms. By a miracle, the room was hardened against EMP and Davis has been in contact with the Ark Royal. We are going to have to spend one more night, I am afraid, as the EMP knocked out all landing lights and the IR beacons."

Someone let out a low whistle as the news sank in. Surrounded outside and now within. Occasionally, banging could be heard against the blast shutters at random places and times. The men would jump at sounds dangerously close to them.

"Men," Blake stood up and faced the remnants of his command. "At first light, we are going to extricate Davis and Edmonds from comms and make our way to the roof landing pad. I want four men to get into the armory and carry off with as much ammunition as is possible to carry. The remaining four will be with me aiding Davis and Edmonds. We then move into the barracks and get any field rations we can find. We then meet up at the head of the main lobby stairs and move as a group to the roof, Understood?"

In unison, the Marines nodded and saluted.

Blake toggled the working handy-talkie and called to Corporal Davis. Apprised of the situation, Davis and Edmonds proceeded to secure the room as much as possible, before hunkering in for the night. Davis informed Blake that he would keep tabs on the Ark Royal and give a thirty minute head's up before the helo's arrival.

"That should give us enough time to clear the second and third floors and deal with who - or what - ever is up there," Blake sighed.

**A/N: *six, or on six means covering to the rear, as if standing on an analogue clock face and facing to the twelve o'clock position. BTW, I am not really sure if a Faraday Cage would actually stop a nuclear released EMP in real life, but then, zombies don't exist in real life, either...do they?**


	11. ZDay3 0600hrs

HRM Legation, Tokyo Japan, Z-Day+3 0600hrs

No one slept much that night. Between the sporadic attempts at breaking in by "them" outside and the constant dread of at least one of "them" inside, if anyone got more than three hours shut-eye, it was attributed to sheer exhaustion more than anything else.

Staff Sergeant Blake let his eyes flutter open. The predawn light filtered in through minute cracks in the blast shutters. The emergency generator had been running almost twelve hours, but still provided light. Blake checked his wristwatch.

'0600 hours,' he thought to himself. 'I'm getting lax in my old age. Any other day before now and I would have had this lot on their feet and out on the courses.'

He heaved a heavy sigh, looked about the room and let his eyes come to rest on Sergeant White. White had taken position on the door, his body weight aiding in holding the door shut. By the look of him, White had slept as little or even less than the rest of the squad. His head jerked up slightly as his chin hit his chest.

White looked over to see his senior non-commissioned officer looking at him. Blushing, White only meekly offered the customary greeting.

"Sorry, Staff Sergeant, I was dozing off there a minute," White offered by way of apology.

"Don't worry about it, lad," Blake smiled. "Anything happening out there?"

White pressed his ear to the interior door, a thoughtful look on his face. He then looked at Blake and shook his head.

Blake let loose a small sigh.

"So far, so good, yeah?" White said.

Blake nodded then toggled the squawk on the handy-talkie.

"Corporal Davis, Blake, what news, over."

Silence followed silence as Blake began to fear the worst. Had "they" been able to infiltrate Communications? If so, how would they contact the Ark Royal? His men would be faced with two choices…die out there or starve in here.

Eventually, a sleepy sounding Davis came on line.

"Staff Sergeant Blake, Corporal Davis, I copy, how read, over."

Blake heaved deeply in relief.

"Corporal Davis, what is the current timeline on evac? Over."

"Staff Sergeant Blake, the Ark Royal has been apprised of our current situation. They have spun out one, repeat one, Merlin for evac, ETA one hour 15 minutes, how copy, over."

"That makes for a tight squeeze," Blake said. "We will have to leave some equipment behind."

"Better on that bird naked, than stuck in here with everything," White quipped.

Blake chuckled at the thought of he and his Marines sprinting, naked, into a waiting helo. Blake then toggled the handy-talkie.

"Davis, Blake. Heard and Understood. One helo for evac. Relay that, over."

"Heard and understood, Davis out."

The handy-talkie fell silent. Blake set the bezel timer on his watch. In 45 minutes, he would give the order to storm through the lobby and split into two teams; one to rescue Davis and Edmonds and the other to stock up on as much ammo and food as those men could find and carry. Blake preceded to formulate a second plan. Since the Ark Royal was only sending one helo, the heavy equipment and some ammo could be left behind and the entire squad could assist in the rescue. At far as evacuation logistics were concerned, that made more sense, but to leave all that ammunition and other related equipment behind would mean that much less to use in the upcoming re-conquest.

Blake thought about that for a few moments…with the embassy effectively sealed off from "them" outside, this building would make a more than ideal launch point, especially if the returning troops did not have to ferry that much in with them initially.

Either option had both merits and drawbacks. Blake let his eyes drift shut for a few moments before he was gently shaken awake by Sergeant Pegg.

Shocked back into consciousness, Blake looked to the source of the irritant.

"Staff Sergeant, Nicky boy and I just realized something."

"Go on," Blake said.

"Privates Brown and Sharpe, as well as the Major are still out in the main halls," Pegg explained. "If they are…'them'…they will hinder our movements and possibly block our egress out to the roof."

Blake had forgotten about that. 'Shit, I _am_ getting old,' he thought. 'Maybe I ought to retire when this is over with…' He let the thought pass from his mind.

"I am leaving you in charge of the squad, Sergeant Pegg," Blake said, picking his rifle up. "I am going to find those three, one way or another and take care of them."

Pegg's eyes widened.

"By yourself?"

"I won't put anyone else in danger, Jimmy lad," Blake said, the glaring lapse in military discipline went unremarked upon. "Mark this time…0610 hrs…In 40 minutes, take these men to the roof and await evac."

"What about Edmonds and Davis?"

"I will go and get them first," Blake said firmly. "They are not little children who need to hold Daddy's hand, for Christ's sake. They are Royal Marines."

"But just you against one…possibly more…"

Blake cut Pegg off with a wave of his hand.

"I am a Royal Marine, as well, Sergeant. I have my weapon and most importantly, I have all my senses and all my faculties. The armory is right before barracks and Communications. I'll simply pop in and stock up."

Pegg, looking unconvinced, relented to the more senior enlisted.

"At least let us cover you to the stairwell," he said finally.

Blake pinched the bridge of his nose again and seriously considered Pegg's offer.

"Very well, Sergeant," Blake relented. "Remember. The helos should be on station for evac at 0715hrs. You and the rest of the squad are on that bird whether I am with you or not. Understood?"

Pegg smiled briefly before stiffening into parade attention.

"Yes, Staff Sergeant."

Blake toggled the handy-talkie to life.

"Davis, Blake, how copy, over."

"Blake, Davis, All quiet on the Western Front, over." A small snickering in the background. Edmonds' idea of a joke, Blake thought. Oh well, all that stress has to vent somehow.

"I am coming to get you," Blake said. "Are you able to contact the Ark Royal remotely, over."

"Blake, Davis, that is an affirmative. I have the sat phone all charged up, over."

"Sit tight, will be there in ten. Do you remember the knock signal, over"

"Blake, Davis, two-one-two, over."

"There's a good lad. Blake out."

Blake handed a second radio to the interim squad leader, one Lance Corporal Williamson.

"Only if you absolutely have to contact me, understood?"

"Yes, Staff Sergeant."

Blake, Pegg and White all armed themselves with L85A2s, checked their magazines were at full capacity, and quietly opened the dormitory door. Sergeant White, ever the clever fellow, pulled out his grooming mirror and held it into the hall and checked the reflections for movement. Seeing none, he gave the all clear. The three men silently moved into the hall and assumed a tight 360⁰ circle. Moments later, the dormitory door was pushed shut and re-bolted.

White and Pegg swiftly took up positions at the entrance to the hall, White facing into the lobby while Pegg covered the hall behind them. Blake silently stalked into the lobby. Jones lay where White had shot him, the woman just beyond. In the gloom, Blake could barely make out the bulk of Lt Symons' final resting place, but something seemed odd. Continuing at his stalking pace, Blake swiftly came to understand what had seemed so out of place. Lt Symons' body had disappeared. His two other former marines were moved about in such a way that looked like Symons got up and pushed them over.

'Shit,' Blake cursed to himself. 'Now I have Symons out there somewhere.'

Blake then noticed the blood trail. It lead down the hall toward the stairway leading to communications.

'Then the bloody bastard's down there,' Blake thought.

Slowing his pace further, Blake kept the blood trail in sight as he peeked around the corner into the stairwell. Sure enough, the trail led down the stairs and into the gloom of the sub-floor.

Slinging his rifle over his shoulder and securing it between two PLCE pouches, Blake once again drew his Fairbairn-Sykes. Holding it in the down thrust, or ice-pick, position, the knife should dispatch Symons' corpse just as easily as it had Smith's the night previous; Smith's body still lying prone on the landing floor.

Stepping at a snail's pace brought Blake into the gloom of the sub-floor. Peering around the last corner, Blake could make out the form of some-thing-shuffling towards the lift. Painfully slow, Blake proceeded to follow the shambler until it bumped into the lift.

'Thank God that thing has no sense to turn around…'

That though cut off as the heavy sound of a rifle butt crashing into bone sounded in the stairwell behind him. The body of what looked like Private Brown tumbled down the stairs, the distinctive sound of snapping vertebra filling the hallway.

"Bloody Fuck," Blake cursed aloud as the shambler near the lift turned and made its way toward the sounds of commotion.

At that precise moment, the communication room door opened and Corporal Edmonds poked his head into the hallway.

"Close that fuckin' door, you stupid twat!" Blake bellowed, partly to shock some sense into Edmonds and also to keep the Zed's attention focused on his position at the stairway.

Edmonds complied swiftly, slamming the door, just as Zed began pawing at the woodwork.

Blake turned to face Brown's body, but instead found Sergeant White burying his Fairbairn-Sykes into the skull.

Without waiting for an explanation, Blake turned to face Zed at the Communications Room door, shouldered his rifle and fired one shot into the Zed's head, dropping it to the deck instantly.

The report resounded through the building. The Marines holed up in the dormitory jumped to attention. Sergeant Pegg whipped about to face into the lobby. Not seeing his partner at his last known pos, Pegg cautiously moved into the lobby. By pure stroke of luck, the cold, dead hand that had reached out to grab him missed.

Feeling the whiff on the back of his neck, Sergeant Pegg executed a spinning drop kick and swept the legs of his would be attacker from under it. Returning to his fighting stance, Pegg brought the butt of his rifle down upon his assailant's head, smashing the back of the skull.

When all movement stopped, Pegg moved cautiously closer to investigate. The parachute wing and DZ flash on the sleeves below the Royal Marine TRF was all too familiar. Pegg had just killed his commanding officer.

A few minutes later, Pegg saw Blake, Davis, Edmonds and Nick White all dashing across the lobby, each with a gunny sack over his shoulder and armed to the teeth.

Safely ensconced back in the room, the men took stock of their situation. The Major had indeed been infected and become one of "them". Brown was certainly dead as was Lt Symons…again. That left only Sharpe unaccounted for.

"The rifle shot should have his attention," White said. "One way or another."

A murmur went up from the assembled men. One of the Marines checked his watch.

"0645 hrs," the man said.

"Time to move to the roof," Blake said. "Two of our unaccounted three are, we hope, quite dispatched now. That only leaves Sharpe. I will take point."

The Marines formed into a fighting line and quickly exited the room. Forming up into a tight group, they made their way up the main stair. Upon reaching the landing, one group each covered the stairways that lead off in opposite directions. The second floor opened into a broad mezzanine visible from the main stair landing. Orders to link up at the center of the mezzanine balcony given, the Marines quickly hustled up the stairs in a pincer movement. No resistance met, they proceeded down one hall toward the third floor stair. The second floor was slow going, as open office doors fronted the hall on both sides and would need to be checked individually.

'Bloody good thing I gave us plenty of time,' Blake thought.

Passing Edmonds' room checking idea around made the clearing of the second floor much easier, as at least half the doors were closed. Those offices that stood open were given a brief visual sweep floor to ceiling.

Finally arriving at the stairway to the third floor, Blake checked his watch; 10 minutes had been given up to the second floor. God willing, they would make it to the roof in time for the awaited rendezvous.

Carefully peeking his head above the top stair, Blake saw the lone figure of who he now knew to be Sharpe…or his corpse. Signaling his squad to halt in the stairwell, he shouldered his rifle and took careful aim.

Blake let out a low whistle. Sharpe turned to face the stairway, the hollow look in his eyes gave way to unbridled joy.

"Staff Sergeant!" he whispered hoarsely and sprinted down the hall toward the stairwell.

* * *

Sitting by the roof helo pad, Private Sharpe explained that he and Brown were separated during the night. He said he heard the sounds of a scuffle then a muffled scream. He had taken refuge in one of the empty offices and had barricaded the door with a desk. Sharpe awoke to the sound of Blake's rifle shot and had been carefully patrolling the third floor in an effort to keep it clear, hoping someone would come for him.

Looking around them, the men marveled that they had survived this ordeal. Everyone of them were now brothers in arms, the bond of commitment and loyalty to each other would now last until the ends of their lives. As if to add to the moment, a gust of breeze whipped up the Union Jack still at full mast from the day before.

"How are we going to get it down," White asked, pointing to the flag pole.

"We're not," Blake replied. "The Colours are going to remind us that we are not abandoning the place; that we are coming back to finish this mess."

A rousing "Huzzah!" went up from the men.

Shortly, the distinctive "thump" of rotor blades slicing the air came over the horizon to the east. As it approached, the Merlin circled the compound, the roundel of the Royal Navy boldly painted on the fuselage. Blake popped smoke and the Marines all stood to attention and saluted as the helo came to rest on the landing pad.

Everyone safely on board, Blake did one final head count.

Twelve men and himself, from a proud contingent of twenty. Faced with the memories of Afghanistan, the death toll was about statistically equal. Still, the horrors of the walking dead would far outweigh anything he had lived through before.

Only once the Merlin was out to sea did Blake finally allow himself the luxury of sleep.


End file.
